"I am the flamboyant god who presides over rituals!"
Tengen Uzui roared as he flipped his wrists, kunai flashing with cold light.
"Watch me deal with you—flamboyantly!"
"Tengen-sama, be careful!"
Suma's voice trembled with tears.
"It healed again!"
Makio pulled Suma back protectively.
Hinatsuru pressed her lips together, several throwing tools poised in her fingers as she searched for an opening.
The demon howled. A massive claw lined with barbs came crashing down, reeking of blood!
Uzui twisted aside, kunai snapping up to block.
CRACK—!
The ground beneath his feet spiderwebbed instantly. Uzui grunted, muscles bulging as he forced himself to hold the blow head-on!
As he slid back, he fired a flurry of hidden weapons. They pierced the demon's neck—vital points—only to be ripped out with blatant mockery.
"Damn it! Is this thing immortal?!"
Uzui clenched his teeth, shock and irritation flashing in his eyes.
A shinobi's specialty was assassination.
Uzui Tengen was exceptionally skilled—he'd completed countless missions within his clan.
But even so, he had never faced a monster that regenerated so quickly, as if it possessed an undying body.
"Flamboyant retreat! Now!"
He shouted again, preparing to stake his life to buy his wives time to escape.
At the instant the demon lunged forward, jaws gaping—
A streak of lightning split the darkness!
"Thunder Breathing—First Form: Thunderclap and Flash!"
A cold voice exploded through the forest!
Uzui's vision blurred as a lightning-wreathed figure brushed past him.
No earth-shattering collision.
Just a soft sound—like paper being cut.
The demon froze mid-motion.
Its eyes rolled downward, as if trying to understand what had happened.
Then—
A thin red line appeared at its neck and rapidly widened.
The grotesque head flew skyward!
Blood sprayed violently!
The headless body collapsed, disintegrating at once into ash.
[Slain a mid-tier demon. Gained 1 year of lifespan.
Remaining lifespan: 5 years, 338 days.]
Ryōsuke didn't spare the dead demon another glance.
The pale-white blade slid back into its sheath.
Uzui stared at him, eyes lighting up instantly.
Thunder Breathing—First Form: Thunderclap and Flash?!
What a flamboyant technique!
What a flamboyant name!
What a flamboyant blade!
…Just that face—slightly lacking.
"Waaah!!!"
Suma burst into tears and threw herself at Uzui.
"Tengen-sama! You're alive—thank goodness!"
Makio promptly smacked Suma on the head.
"Suma! Don't say things like that! Of course Tengen-sama wouldn't die!"
"Alright, alright…"
Hinatsuru gently soothed them while tending to Uzui's injuries.
No envy of lovers, no envy of immortals—
I envy the Sound Pillar every single day.
Brother Flashy had real strength, in every sense of the word!
Wise Hinatsuru.
Airheaded, voluptuous Suma.
Fiery, gap-moe Makio.
One man, three elites.
After his brief spiral of envy, Ryōsuke finally spoke.
"Demons. Monsters that feed on human flesh and blood. Ordinary weapons can't truly kill them—only specially forged Nichirin Blades that sever the head, or sunlight that burns them to ash."
"Demons… Nichirin Blades…"
Uzui repeated the words, his eyes flickering intensely.
He had defected from his clan because he refused to become an emotionless killing machine.
But the man before him clearly belonged to an organization that fought these monsters—to protect people.
A wildfire of interest ignited in Uzui's heart.
This power.
This way of living—standing against unknown horrors.
It seemed far more fitting for his idea of flamboyance than the dull life he'd imagined after leaving the clan.
Ryōsuke saw the fire in Uzui's eyes and understood immediately.
In the original story, Uzui had joined the Demon Slayer Corps after being acknowledged and persuaded—his knots untied by Kagaya Ubuyashiki's words.
And the Sound Breathing Uzui would later use was derived from Thunder Breathing—
even if, in practice, it had little to do with it.
The man was a pure stat monster—strength, speed, durability.
No breathing style, no Nichirin Blade, and he'd still held off a mid-tier demon this long.
That physique and combat experience were no joke.
After all, he was the man who could dodge Tanjiro's infamous headbutt.
Ryōsuke broke the silence.
"Judging by your situation, it doesn't look like you have a place to settle down yet."
He pointed toward Momoyama.
"If you've nowhere to go, come back with me. That's where my master's school is. At the very least, it's safe—and far from demons."
Uzui didn't answer right away. He turned to his wives.
At moments like this, only Hinatsuru could make the call. She gave a slight nod.
Uzui let out a long breath.
The terror of that demon—and Ryōsuke's unfathomable strength—made it clear:
the outside world was far more dangerous and far broader than the petty struggles within the shinobi clans.
Wandering blindly with his wives was not a wise choice.
"Momoyama…"
Uzui repeated the name, silver hair fluttering in the wind.
"Sounds like a sufficiently flamboyant place! Very well—then we'll trouble you!"
He stepped forward briskly.
"I'm Uzui Tengen. These are my wives—Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma."
"Yasui Ryōsuke."
Ryōsuke gave his name, said nothing more, and turned to lead the way.
One trip back—four more people.
Momoyama was going to get lively.
Ryōsuke gave a helpless smile as sunlight filtered through the leaves, illuminating the road home.
The outline of the peach forest grew clearer in the distance.
Just as Jigoro Kuwajima was waking up, still processing the morning—
He saw Ryōsuke return with four people in tow.
Before Ryōsuke could even speak, a figure flashed forward.
In the blink of an eye, Jigoro was practically in his face.
Ryōsuke jumped back in shock.
"W-wait, Grandpa—!"
Jigoro paid zero attention to Ryōsuke mastering Constant.
Instead, he grinned broadly at Hinatsuru and the others behind him, beard bristling.
"Good boy! You finally got it!"
"You brought back three in one go!"
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